Walks In the Meadow
by Bingo the Cat
Summary: Five times Peeta walked through the Meadow in Twelve, and the one time his son first made the journey with him beyond the field, into the woods. Set after THG: Mockingjay. Everlark. Rated T for future references to sexual actions.
1. Chapter 1: Sunset Orange

**Author's Note: I'm back. *hears crickets in the background* Long time no see?**

**I apologise for being away for so long, but I had to knuckle down and focus on my exams (which I passed), and then college started, and my life has just, sort of, been taken over by everything happening all at once. So apologies for being away for absolutely ages. But I'm back, with a brand new story under my belt.**

**So I only recently got addicted to the Hunger Games (I know, I know, I'm late to the party), but since I read _Catching Fire_ and _Mockingjay_ (in the same week, having read _The Hunger Games_ well over a year ago now), I've been _obsessed_ with the fandom, and Everlark. (Especially Everlark.) I literally got a whole playlist dedicated to Everlark on my phone. (I even listen to the song _Peeta_ by Jonathan Thulin on repeat, almost every day. If you haven't listened to it, then go listen to it. It's fantastic.) And in that playlist are the two songs this story was written to.**

**Based off of the lyrics from the songs _Somewhere Only We Know_ by Keane, and _Sweet Disposition_ by The Temper Trap. I would highly recommend listening to both songs while reading this story.**

**Enjoy! :)**

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><p><em>1: 8 months after the rebellion<em>

The light summer breeze whispers across the grass just starting to grow back in the meadow, over the mass grave where many people – including my own family – are buried. People I once knew, or perhaps knew _of_, either from Katniss, Gale or Prim. _Prim_. I close my eyes, pain lacing my every thought. Just the thought of Primrose Everdeen hurts, because she didn't deserve the ending she got. _What she deserved_ – I laugh to myself. What Prim deserved was the best life there would be to lead. She could have become a doctor, met a man, gotten married, and had her own family, her own children. What Prim deserved was all that any of us deserved. A quiet life away from the cameras. Because although she was not a tribute, her sister was, and in becoming so, exposed her entire family to the opinions of those in the Capitol.

I open my eyes once more, lean against the rock behind me. The meadow blossoms to life, slowly but surely, and already flowers are starting to poke their way through the grass around the tree-line. Dandelions, tulips, daffodils, bluebells. Even primroses. A small smile graces my face as the sun shines down from the heavens, illuminating the flowers in a heavenly glow.

I stand, using the rock as a support in the absence of my temporary cane as I adjust to having a brand new prosthetic leg – because, out of all the times my body decided to change, it would be now, when I am rehabilitating myself. I suddenly got taller. Maybe it was because I didn't – I don't – have to continuously look over my shoulder in fear of seeing a Capitol camera, doctor or mutt trailing behind me.

I wander around the edge of the meadow, sticking to the shadows at the entrance to the forest, gripping whatever may serve as a support whenever I can. I am still uneasy and wobbly on this new leg, a fact that is proven when I hear a twig crack behind me and I turn around so fast I fall over.

_Katniss_.

She stands there, not looking at me – not even giving any hint as to knowing that I'm there – and instead looks over the meadow. This is one of the first times I've seen her outside her house since I came back to Twelve, nearly five months ago, and it makes a pleasant change to seeing her sit, almost catatonic, in that chair in the kitchen. But it's better than seeing her drunk, like Haymitch is all the time.

Something in the distance enraptures her, and I turn my head in the direction she looks, only to be completely blown away by the sight that meets my eyes. The sun is setting – indicating that I've been out here a lot longer than I expected – but it looks so beautiful that I just want to stay there, and watch it set completely. I slowly get back to my feet, and move to stand beside Katniss. At first she tenses, but as soon as I rub comforting circles across her shoulder blades she relaxes. Her bow and quiver of arrows hang loosely at her side.

"Sunset orange." I almost don't hear her words, the whisper of a voice she talks in is so quiet, but I smile and nod. She turns to face me, a smile lighting up her face as I've never seen it light up before. It's a small smile – barely even noticeable – but her lips turn up just so, that it's hard to find fault in the motion. This is not fake, not for me nor any cameras, and it makes me happy that she is finally coming out of that shell-shocked state she's been stuck in for the past few months, since I really began to take an active part in bringing her back. She is becoming the Katniss Everdeen I fell in love with once more. Always finding beauty in the small things, always standing up for what's right.

"_And there she is, the girl on fire!_" The thought comes to my head, unbidden, and it makes me smile more broadly. There is more than one way to interpret that line. The Capitol audiences saw it as a chance to revel in Katniss's beauty. Now I see it as a testament to her intelligence, and her memory.

"Sunset orange…" I say quietly. "It's my favourite colour. Real or not real?"

And she replies with, "Real."


	2. Chapter 2: Too Soon

**Author's Note: Thanks to Br0k3n Ang3l for the review on the last chapter! I would also like to thank the following people for not only following this story and giving it a favourite, but for following me and giving me a favourite:**

**Indiana1985**

**kimbaleena2002**

**Br0k3n Ang3****l**

**RainbowDash179**

**Thank you very much for the favourites and follows! As a reward, here is the second chapter, a day early! Enjoy! :)**

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><p><em>2: 1 and a half years after the rebellion<em>

I stand next to Katniss as she kneels down, laying a bouquet of primroses in front of the memorial stone constructed for Prim in the town centre. All districts now have memorials in front of the newly re-constructed Justice Buildings, so that people may pay their respects to the departed. People walk past us, take a moment to bow their heads to the figures on top of the memorial, move on with their business.

Katniss struggles to stand, her knees suddenly weak, and I grip her elbow, supporting her. She collapses against my side in exhaustion. Physical exertion still takes its toll on her, though she gets better every day. I press a kiss to the top of her head, and we wrap our arms around each other as we wander home.

She has since moved into my home, not only because of our newly-rekindled relationship, but also because there are too many reminders of all that she has lost in her old house in the Victor's Village. We reach the gates, find Haymitch roaring at his geese (Capitol Monsters, he calls them), and have almost made it inside the house when I notice a figure sat, huddled, on the steps of Katniss's old house. Katniss stops, and looks in the direction I've turned in, all the while stepping further up the steps to the front door. The uneasy look on her face causes me to feel concerned. I look up at her, into those grey Seam eyes of hers.

"Go on," I whisper. "I'll deal with this."

She doesn't say anything, just nods and moves inside the house, shutting the door firmly behind her. I drape my jacket over the railing of the veranda, and walk briskly over to the stranger. I am no further than four or five feet away from them, before they look up. My breath catches in my throat.

Gale.

He stares at me, then jabs his thumb over his shoulder. "She in there?"

It takes me a moment to realise he's asking after Katniss, and suddenly, I feel fiercely protective. The muscles in my lower back and arms tense, and I'm tempted to hit him – but I don't. Instead, I calmly say, "She doesn't live there anymore. She lives in my house."

Gale's eyes – and stare – become icy. I barely have a moment to consider what he might do now he knows that information before his fist flies into my face. Blood spurts from my nose – warm, sticky blood – and I cry out in pain, holding my arms up to defend myself. The tracker jacker venom that remains in my blood makes me feel woozy – and terrified. Immediately I start repeating my mantra to myself. _Not real, not real, not real, not real, not real, not real, not–_

"Peeta?"

My eyes fly open, and I find Greasy Sae standing over me. Haymitch is restraining Gale, keeping him away from me. I scramble to my feet; my hand touches my face, and I find the lower half of my face, under my nose, to be caked with blood. Gale is yelling something indiscernible at me, because at that moment, Haymitch shoves his fist into the hunter's mouth, just to shut him up. I step around Greasy Sae, and as I approach Gale, his words become clearer, even when he's yelling around Haymitch's fist. "What have you done to her? You don't deserve her – she belongs with me!"

The venom rises up again, but I push it down with my mantra going on in my head. _Not real, not real, not real… _"Maybe I don't deserve her," I growl, and Gale gets quieter just to listen, "but I know this – if you ever want her to be happy, if you want to help her heal, then you can do one thing for me, Gale Hawthorne, and that's _stay away_. Leave District Twelve, and never come back." I take a deep breath. "She has been doing so much better without having you hang over her shoulder all the time. Katniss and I, we have one common interest, and that is putting the past behind us. You coming here is just digging it back up." I shake my head slightly, and hold my arms out wide. "She even visited the memorial today. She laid a bouquet of primroses at Prim's grave. If that's not an effort to move on, to remember the good things and forget the bad, then I don't know what is." I turn, and start to walk away from the man who just brings the past back up, and turn my head to look at him. "Leave now, and I won't tell her you were here."

Gale considers my words – Haymitch has released him – before nodding tersely and storming out of the Victor's Village.

I keep my word – I go back to my house, and find Katniss sitting in the living room, her legs tucked up under her on the sofa. She looks up at me and smiles, but it fades as soon as she sees the blood. "What happened?"

"I tripped and fell over. Bashed my nose pretty badly." It's the perfect little white lie to spin, and she believes me. "It was just a stranger. No one we know. I sent them on their way." Katniss nods, before standing and taking my hand.

"Come on. I want to show you something."

We walk until we reach the meadow. The flowers and the grass are just starting to appear again after the winter. The most prominent flower I can see are dandelions, and I wonder what it is she has to show me. She lifts herself into a tree, and I smile. _Never, in a million years._ We are stationary for a while – about fifteen minutes. The sun is setting in the distance.

"I know it was Gale." Her words surprise me. I look up at her, sitting in the tree, and see the pain in her eyes. I sigh. She looks down at me, making eye contact. "I'm glad you sent him away. It's too soon."

"I know," I say softly. "That's what I told him."

Katniss hops down from the tree, and stands next to me. She crouches down, and indicates that I should do the same. I crouch down beside her, and she picks a dandelion from the ground. She twirls it between her thumb and forefinger, before stopping and smiling. She turns to look at me, and then, slowly but surely, leans in and kisses me. My hand gently cups her cheek, and we part. I smile back at her, and she laughs.

"I don't need Gale anymore. Not when I have you. My dandelion in the spring." My heart swells at her words. She may not be the best at expressing her feelings with words, but her actions alone tell me what I've always wanted to hear. What I _needed_ to hear.


	3. Chapter 3: Care

**Author's Note: Just to put some forewarning out there, I might not be able to update as often over the next week, as I'm going back to college after my half-term holiday, and we're starting to prepare for the December/January mock exams. Not only that, but I also have a college choir concert on the 6th (of November), so I have to rehearse for that. It's not an ordinary choir, it's a rock choir. Where we sing popular music rather than classical things. Mainly _Chasing Cars_ and Bon Jovi. *rolls eyes* But I will try to update as often as possible. So until then, enjoy!**

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><p><em>3: 4 years after the rebellion<em>

The first thing I am aware of when I wake is the lack of another warm body beside mine. I sit up, dazed, and look around. Katniss is nowhere in sight, and instantly I begin to panic. But then I hear someone singing from downstairs, and a lazy smile graces my face. I clamber to the edge of the bed, the sheets pooling around my waist as I go, then drop when I stand up. I locate my pyjama bottoms – _how did they end up on the windowsill?_ - and step into them, before pulling my dressing gown around my shoulders. I tie the belt around my waist very loosely – it's quite warm for the middle of autumn – and head downstairs.

When I reach the kitchen, however, I find Annie at one of the counters, laughing and helping her young boy Sanden make cookies whilst teaching him a song I've never heard before. _So where's Katniss?_ The boy is the spitting image of what I imagine his father might have looked like as a young boy, but he has Annie's eyes, nose and cheeks. He giggles as he swipes cookie dough down his mother's cheek, and soon Annie retaliates in kind, pouring at least half a bag of chocolate chips into her son's bronze hair. He squeals and hops down from his stool, running behind my legs. "Uncle Peeta!" he yelps, clutching onto the tail of my robe and hiding his face in it. But he continues giggling. "Stop my mummy!"

I sigh, and bend down to allow Sanden to clamber onto my shoulders. "Stop your mummy?" Sanden gives a loud _uh-huh_ in response, and I swipe him off my shoulders and under my arm instead. He squeals loudly, and Annie laughs as she dips her fingers into the bowl of excess icing, before withdrawing them and making her way over to Sanden and I in a predatory manner. I hold the boy up higher, and he shrieks happily, squirming under my arm and trying desperately to break free. Annie suddenly darts forward, and instead of smearing the icing over Sanden's face, like I expected, she draws a long white stripe down the bridge of my nose. I yelp in surprise. "What the–?"

Annie grins cheekily. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

Just then, the front door opens, and Katniss steps indoors. Sanden finally manages to wriggle out of my grip, and giggles as he looks up at me. "You look like a horse from Four, Uncle Peeta!"

I have no idea what he means at first, then I realise that he is implying that most horses from District 4 have a long white stripe down the front of their faces. I start to scrub the icing off of my face, but not before Katniss sees me and chuckles in amusement. She sets down her game bag – _ah, so that's where she was, hunting_ – and makes her way over to me, withdrawing a handkerchief and wiping the rest of the icing off my nose. "Now how did you get into this mess when you've clearly just gotten up?" She's right – my hair is still tousled from sleep, for once a peaceful night, and I haven't yet rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

I point like a petulant child at Annie. "It was Annie's fault. Honest."

Annie shrugs. "I admit that I swiped the icing onto Peeta's face. I didn't start the initial food fight." She looks pointedly at her son, who sheepishly drags his toes along the ground, looking up at Annie with huge puppy eyes. She sighs and smiles, picking Sanden up and nuzzling her nose into his rosy cheek. "Come on, let's go get washed up. Then we can help with tidying up the kitchen."

Katniss and I watch them go, and as I turn to face her again, I see the faintest hint of a relaxed, loving – _caring_ – smile curling her lips upward. The kind of smile she used to give Prim. Even though it's been four years since the rebellion, Prim's horrid death still lingers at the backs of our minds. As does Finnick's, and that of Boggs. And many more. And all I can think of is how she would make a great mother – if not to her own children, then a godmother to Sanden, or even Johanna's newborn baby girl. _I guess she found someone to love once again._ But then she catches me staring, and she raises an eyebrow at me. I swallow nervously. Am I about to get scolded, or–

She walks over to me, and stands up on the tips of her toes to give me a kiss. _Or she could do that._

When she leans back, breaking the physical connection between us, she smirks at me. "Come on. If we tidy up quick enough, then we might just be able to go for a picnic in the Meadow with Annie and Sanden."

I frown. "Why, what time is it?"

Katniss laughs, which only serves to confuse me further. "Peeta, how tired were you last night? I mean I know we stayed up till past midnight playing cards, but _damn_." She cocks her head to the side, which makes me look at the clock to my right, and my eyes widen in surprise.

"Holy hell, it's gone eleven?!" The feel of Katniss's hands on my face makes me turn to look at her once more, and she kisses me again. I smile against her lips, and thread my hands through her hair. The sound of footsteps on the stairs breaks us apart once more, and Katniss lays a hand on my chest.

"Go and have a shower. Then we'll tidy up and take our lunch to the Meadow."

An hour later, we finish packing a bag and a basket with sandwiches, cakes, cheese buns (for Katniss), as well as fruit and pre-cooked, cold seafood from last night's dinner with Annie cooking, and head off. At the last minute, I think to grab a bag, put a few bottles of both water and white liquor in, and head over to Haymitch's and ask him to join us. He almost says no, but then Sanden appears and begs him to come along as well. And no matter how much he might not like to admit, Haymitch dotes on Sanden. I catch myself unconsciously wondering what he'll be like with mine and Katniss's children, then stop that thought right there, because I know Katniss. I know she doesn't want to have children. And I think it's because, deep down, she's scared that some idiot will bring back the Hunger Games. I can't blame her. If that world still existed, I'd be terrified of bringing a child into the world too.

We enjoy our time in the meadow – Haymitch tells Sanden all kinds of stories from before Katniss and I were even born, let alone thought of – about how his dad used to teach him how to hunt, how to trade and haggle. Of times when his family was still alive, when his teenage sweetheart was still alive. He edits the story for Sanden's sake, changing their deaths to those of illness, rather than cold-blooded murder on the old Capitol's part. They play _I spy_ with Annie, and Katniss and I sit in the background, smiling and laughing.

When it reaches close to six in the late-autumn evening, Haymitch finally flops down beside us on the second blanket we brought with us, utterly exhausted. Sanden stands in front of me, and I shield my eyes against the glare of the sun. "What's up, Sanden?"

The boy looks at Katniss and I hopefully. "Will you take me around the edge of the Meadow? I want to see the sun set from the edge of the forest."

I look at Katniss, and she smiles, before pushing herself to her feet, into a crouch in front of Sanden. "Yeah, of course we will."

Sanden's face lights up, and he beams from ear to ear. I stand up, and bend over, placing my hands on my knees for support. "Why don't you climb onto my shoulders, eh, Sanden? That way you'll be able to see the sun set better." He claps excitedly, and Katniss laughs, before lifting the boy onto my shoulders.

We walk around the edge of the meadow, Sanden clinging on to my right hand to stop himself from falling off of my shoulders, whilst I wrap my left hand around Katniss's right. She squeezes my fingers gently. Finally, we arrive at the ideal spot to see the sun set, and we wait.

Suddenly, Sanden gasps in awe as waves of oranges and pinks tumble over the sky when the sun begins to go down. He points out all the different colours, and Katniss laughs. "You've been listening to Peeta wax poetic about the sunset too much, Sanden. Don't want to turn into a complete sap now, do you?"

I mock-glare at Katniss, who smirks whilst Sanden shakes his head vigorously. "Nu-uh! I wanna be big and strong, just like mummy says my daddy was!"

I see the pain flash in Katniss's eyes at the mention of Finnick, and I feel it too. But we don't say anything about it. Instead, we turn back to watch the sun set behind the clouds. When it starts to get dark, I pull out a torch, and we make our way back to Haymitch and Annie. They have finished packing up, and Sanden jumps down from my shoulders to tell Annie excitedly about the sunset. She laughs.

"I know, my darling, I saw it too. But I'm sure Uncle Peeta and Auntie Katniss took you to see it from a much better place."

Sanden hums happily, and I turn to look at Katniss. The unconscious longing is back in her eyes, but by the time she's turned to face me with a smile, it's gone. She leans up and kisses me, and I kiss her back, happy to have this moment with her. Because I made an effort to get past the broken state the Capitol left me in, with my hijacked mind. Because I made the effort to come back and care once more for Katniss Everdeen. My Katniss. _Which reminds me…_

Haymitch has a knowing smile on his face, and Annie's eyes gleam with tears as, unprompted, I get to one knee in front of Katniss, and take her hand in my own. "Katniss, I don't know what I'd do without you. You were the reason I came back to Twelve. Because I wanted to be here for you. To give you a chance at being able to care for someone once again." I swallow past the lump in my throat. "I know the pain is never going to go away. Prim was like a sister to me, too, and she was kind. She helped me understand why you did the things you did, why you said the things you said. She helped me understand you, better than anyone else ever could. When she died, a part of me died with her as well as a part of you. You lost a sister, and I lost a true friend." I see tears start to well up in Katniss's eyes, so I move on. "She taught me things about you that I never knew before. She reminded me of the things I will always love about you. And so, on that note…" I release my hands from around hers, and pull out a small velvet box from my pocket. I open it, and hear Katniss's gasp. Set into the ring is the pearl I gave her on the beach in the Quarter Quell. "Katniss Everdeen, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

She doesn't say anything, just pulls me up by the collar of my shirt and kisses me for what feels the hundredth time that day. Haymitch whistles, and Annie and Sanden cheer happily, but we don't notice, being so wrapped up in each other. When we separate, Katniss grins at me, and lays a hand on my cheek. "I was wondering when you were going to ask me."

I smile back at her. "I love you, Katniss. Sometimes it feels like I love you so much, I'll either burst or take flight. But that's okay, because as long as I care about you, and you care about me, I'll do anything and go anywhere. Because I care."


End file.
